


Apartment Wars

by grimcognito



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Apartment Complex AU, Gen, M/M, Pure Nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-14 13:09:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1267633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimcognito/pseuds/grimcognito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dramatic life and times of those residing in the Autocomplex and the Decepticondos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lover's Spat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zuzeca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuzeca/gifts).



“Optimus want me Grimlock to toss him Megatron out of window?”

Optimus cracked a slight smile and shook his head. “No thank you, Grimlock, but I won’t say I’m not tempted to take you up on the offer.” He watched as Grimlock, looking snug in the robe Optimus had bought him a while back, stacked some loose oranges into a wobbly tower with a surprising amount of concentration. 

Red optics flickered up to look at him now and then as Grimlock waited for more. It wasn’t long before his short supply of patience ran out, just as it always did. “What him Buckethead do this time?”

Optimus sighed and rested his chin on one hand, elbow braced on the table. “He thinks I should move out and live in a,” here he made lazy air quotes with his free hand, “ ‘nicer place than this scrapheap’.”

That got a growling rumble out of Grimlock and he set his next orange on the tower carelessly, sending them all toppling and rolling across the table. Neither of them bothered to catch them. Grimlock shook a finger at Optimus, optics narrowed and other hand on his hip. “Optimus not allowed to leave! Stupid Buckethead can go alone if he want to!”

Optimus smiled again under his mask, warmed by Grimlock’s… enthusiasm to keep him nearby. He was like a protective older brother to Optimus, had been since Optimus had first moved in next door to him and brought over a warm batch of energon cookies to introduce himself. The grumbly dinobot had dragged him inside and demanded the recipe as he devoured the goodies. Optimus had happily shared after he was sure he wouldn’t be eaten as well. And hearing Grimlock say his name in that odd ‘Op-tee-mus’ way he had since they’d met was something he’d grown fond of.

“I wouldn’t leave, Grimlock. You know I love it here. Besides, I may come from a rich family, but I much prefer to make my own way. Everyone here is a hundred times better than the snobs my family mingles with. I’d be booted back out on my aft in half a breem.” He chuckled softly at that. It was true, he couldn’t stand the upper caste mechs all living in ignorant bliss in the Upper Levels. They could have their grand parties and politely chatter as they all plotted ways to backstab each other, but Optimus would be tempted to dig up dirty backroom dealings on half of them the moment he walked in. He’d never been suited to that life, even if he was born into it, and even less so now. The simple and occasionally exciting life of an average archivist suited him just fine.

Sadly, Megatron had much bigger dreams. Optimus could understand his want for a better life, since he’d worked his way up from an impoverished youth, but couldn’t he be happy here? Sure the pipes randomly switched temperatures, and the gardens on every inch of balcony and roof space made it smell the tiniest bit like compost, but it also smelt of blooming flora in the spring and summer! And Wheeljack was the friendliest repairman one could get, not even getting upset when he was called up for the fifth time in a single cycle to fix the leaky faucet. Hey, he was a friendly repairman, that didn’t mean he was necessarily a good one.

But Optimus was happy here, with his neighbors and friends. And Megatron wanted them to move up to where it was all sarcasm and backhanded compliments? No thanks. “Don’t worry, Grim, I’m sure we’ll work it out once he’s run out of steam. We always do.”

Grimlock grumbled again. “Can maybe work it out *without* fragging against connecting wall? Me Grimlock would like to recharge properly for once.”

Optimus was grateful for the facemask that hit most of his blush. “I, um, I’ll try?”

Grimlock sighed and went back to stacking the scattered oranges. “Me Grimlock need audial-plugs.”

Anything Optimus was about to say was interrupted by a loud knocking on Grimlock’s door. “Optimus! I know you’re in there!”

Rolling his optics, Grimlock got to his pedes and waved for Optimus to stay, snorting when he opened the door to a furious Megatron. “Why you Buckethead banging on Grimlock’s door?”

“I’m here to get Optimus, now get out of the way, you walking scrapheap!”

“Optimus not here.” Grimlock replied tartly, keeping a straight face as Optimus failed to muffle his snickering behind him.

“What do you mean he’s not—I can see him right there!” Megatron pointed, glaring over Grimlock’s shoulder to Optimus who occupied himself with collecting the scattered oranges and avoided looking in the direction of the door. 

Grimlock tapped his chin and made a curious noise. “Buckethead neighbor sounds crazy. Imagining things. Maybe me Grimlock call the police?”

Megatron clenched his fists and grit his denta, but he learned the hard way that Grimlock had a damned trigger finger for the phones and kept the local law enforcement on speed dial. “You—you cog-headed slagger!”

Grimlock pulled a phone out of his subspace and Megatron snarled. “Fine! But once you’re done playing house like a pair of sparklings, I’ll be waiting, Optimus!” Then he spun on his heel and stomped back to his apartment, the door slamming shut behind him loud enough to echo through the hall.

Grimlock cackled to himself, and tucked his phone away once more, lazily kicking his door shut and returning to the table, where Optimus rested a chin in one hand and sighed. “I should go back and talk to him.”

There was a muffled crash from the other side of the connecting wall and Optimus snorted. “But I’ll wait a little longer before I do. If he makes a mess he can clean it up himself.”

Grimlock simply huffed an amused vent of air and began his orange stacking once more as Optimus began telling him of the newest chapter in his current book.


	2. Chapter 2

Megatron shoved at the potted plants cluttering up the balcony and cursing his stubborn lover’s unfathomable need to rot away in this scrapheap of an apartment complex. It really was the best way to let off steam, just rant it all out. He was working himself up into a good frothing rage rant when he saw motion from the balcony neighboring his. 

He turned his head to look but something heavy and small and *wet* hit him right in the optic with a splat. He flailed and staggered, as the projectile fell from his face but whatever fouls acidic residue it carried sting his optics. Snarled out a curse as he tripped on the cluster of potted atrocities and tipped over with a crash. 

The unmistakable sound of Grimlock’s laughter as he angrily wiped the foul liquid from his face had him back on his feet in moments, finally able to see again. “What in the name of the Pit did you--!?” He blinked, looked down, and saw half an orange. The other half was in Grimlock’s hand. “You *slagger*!”

“It slipped.” Grimlock replied, looking completely unrepentant. 

Megatron snarled. “Over two railings!?”

A shrug was his answer. “Me Grimlock not know own strength. But me Grimlock hear vitamin C is good for you. Magazine say to eat with your eyes before your mouth, so Buckethead should be grateful for help.”

“The only help I’m going to need is finding a place to bury your big aft once I’m done with you!” Megatron yelled. There was a muffled snicker from just beyond Grimlock’s balcony door and Megatron gaped, glancing to the side to see his own shared apartment a lot emptier than it had been a few kliks ago. “Optimus! What the—get back over here!”

Grimlock casually toyed with the half orange in his hand and Megatron narrowed his optics in suspicion, refusing to be taken by surprise a second time. He pointed accusingly at the smug dinobot. “Why is he always running to you?”

That earned him a look reserved for the particularly idiotic. "You crazy neighbor act like an aft. Me Grimlock much better to stay with."

“And how do I know you’re not attempting to have an affair!?” He doubted it, but no one ever claimed he was rational when angry.

Grimlock’s look went from smug to darkly amused. “Be glad we’re not. If Optimus wanted Grimlock, them me Grimlock would make sure *no one* was in Grimlock's way. Maybe crazy neighbor needs to just be nice for once."

Megatron fumed, but the fact that he had never so much as sensed a hint of want in Grimlock’s fields when he was around Optimus kept his from making the rude gesture he was thinking very hard about doing. One day, revenge would be a sweet, sweet victory. “Fine.” He raised his voice, forcing it to a calmer tone. “Optimus, would you *please* come back over here?” 

There was shuffling and movement from beyond Grimlock’s balcony door and after a klik or two, Optimus walked back into their apartment. “Ready to be civil this time?”

“Depends, is your bodyguard going to continue to pelt fruit at me? This slag is practically eating away at my paint.” He growled back, though it was more of a grumbling than real anger, and Optimus was at his side in a moment, fussing over the possible, if minor, damage. 

He heard Grimlock snort off to the side and made the rude gesture he’d been resisting out of Optimus’ sight as he was led back inside. Victory after all. At least until he felt the heavy, wet splat against the back of his helm.


	3. The Executive Suite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream finally gets what he wants. Or at least, he thinks he does.

“Top floor executive suite, here I come!” Starscream announced gleefully as he heaved that last of far too many travel cases for a race that didn’t wear clothing at a disgruntled Astrotrain. Skywarp clapped, looking just as happy, but mostly because Starscream getting the top floor, meant that he would finally be away from Skywap and Thundercracker. They were only one floor below, but at least the shrieking would be somewhat muffled now.

Thundercracker rolled his optics and gave a lazy wave as Starscream strutted out the door. Astrotrain grumbled about how many credits Starscream owed him for hauling all his luggage up the stairs as he followed. Soon as they were gone, Skywarp burst into snickering. “He has no idea what he signed himself into does he?”

Smirking, Thundercracker chuckled and shook his head, wandering over to the door to casually change the lock entry code. Then he counted in his head. 5… 4… 3… 2…

“WHAT IN THE DEEPEST SMELTING PITS IS THIS FOUL ATROCITY!?” 

Oh, the separating layer of reinforced metal did nothing to dampen the screeched fury, but Thundercracker was too busy being amused to care. He and Skywarp had matching grins. Thundercracker had been to Megatron’s flat before and had seen exactly how awful it was. Megatron had *hated* the pre-furnished place, and for good reason. It was all strange furniture that looked more like failed attempts at modern art and strip lighting in a terribly unflattering shade of purple. 

A deep, less audible voice rumbled in response and Thundercracker paused, sharing a look with Skywarp. Could it be? It wasn’t Astrotrain’s voice, so was it possible that their mysterious landlord, Unicron was up there? Rumor had it only Megatron had ever seen him, and that was when he first moved in as well. 

The thought was interrupted with more furious screeching. “I WAS PROMISED A GLORIOUS TOP OF THE LINE SUITE, NOT A FAILED ART GALLERY OWNED BY A COLOR-BLIND PIMP!”

Skywarp collapsed against Thundercracker in a fit of laughter, clinging to him to stay upright. Thundercracker laughed as well, leaning against the wall as they clearly heard the response this time around. 

“Pathetic worm! You question my asthetics!?” Unicron’s voice boomed back.

"I QUESTION YOUR EYESIGHT! IS THAT A CHAIR OR DID THE CHANDELIER FALL? WHO KNOWS? I SURE DON’T! AND THERE ARE *PURPLE* LIGHTS! AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE HERE OR OPEN A STRIP BAR!?”

Thundercracker and Skywarp were sitting on the floor, leaning against each other and laughing, vents stalling into wheezes now and then. “J-just wait until he sees the—“

“IS THAT MY BED!?”

Across the way, Megatron sat on his balcony and cackled. Maybe staying here for a while wasn’t so bad, especially if he got to watch Starscream suffer. The glitch had been wanting the top floor for ages, and now he had it. Too bad Megatron had never bothered to tell him that the only reason he’d been there so long was because the lease to rent it bound him by law to keep is as it was. 

He’d take a shabby, plant-covered complex any day over that horror of a suite. Just the lighting had killed any chance of sex with Optimus, and he would *not* miss the place one bit. Well, maybe the plumbing, but considering the trade-off, he could live with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Standard Disclaimers Apply- I own nothing and claim nothing from the Transformers franchise, IDW or Hasbro. This is a work of fiction made purely for fun and that makes no profit.


End file.
